


Future Field Trip: Acquainted With Her Damage

by HSavinien



Series: Nile and Booker's Field Trips [3]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Anger, Canon-Typical Violence, Explosions, Future Fic, Gen, Guns, Injury, Nile Freeman appreciation week, Nile Freeman-centric, POV Nile Freeman, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26407819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HSavinien/pseuds/HSavinien
Summary: Some years on, Quỳnh invites Nile and Booker to come take out an oil pipeline.
Relationships: Nile Freeman & Quynh | Noriko
Series: Nile and Booker's Field Trips [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1911277
Comments: 10
Kudos: 111





	Future Field Trip: Acquainted With Her Damage

Nile wakes with a gasp and a jolt, pats at her face until the smooth skin under her fingers reassures her that she’s whole again, healing. She reaches for her weapon, scrabbling in the rubble as she hears Quỳnh doing the same beside her, blades clinking as their fingers regain feeling. Nile takes half a second to focus, straining her senses to go beyond the ringing from the explosion and the blood pooled in her mouth, and hears the shouting from the pipeline guards, smells the acrid motor-oil scent of C4, and feels the vibrations in the concrete that mean running boots.

Booker should be planting another set of explosives further up the line to the west.

“He warned us.” Quỳnh groans. “That was a mistake. Andromache would be insufferable if you got me blown up permanently.”

“ _I_ got _you_ blown up?” Nile asks. “Who ran back into the building because the man she just threw a knife into fell backwards instead of forwards?”

“I like this knife,” Quỳnh says. She pulls it out of the now-mangled remains and inspects it for damage. “Nobody said you had to follow me.”

Nile prays for patience and slides the labrys back into its loops in her belt. “Right. Do you want to go cover Book’s ass or shall I?” She checks her clip, and heads for the exit. ‘Not here’ is the best place to be right now.

“It is _my_ mission,” Quỳnh says primly. “You are a guest. I will go after LeLivre. You go cause a diversion or something. Evacuate a doghouse.”

Nile calls back, “The importance of life doesn’t stop being real because people hurt you.”

Quỳnh tells her to go fuck herself in beautiful Oromo and heads west, rifle spitting out a sharp spray of bullets and cutting off some of the shouting.

Nile ignores her and returns to clearing the pipeline offices (prefabricated sheds plopped down along the concrete road). There’s a computer terminal blinking in one and when she pokes it hopefully, it pops awake. She scans the desk and finds the password sticky-note of the memory-challenged stuck behind the monitor, plugs it in and starts stripping the computer of files. Copley - no, not Copley - Ghosh will appreciate them.

When she’s finished, Nile doublechecks the back room, then heads for the last sheds.

There’s a cowering person in the third-to-last one, probably the owner of the beat-up mini-truck that they’d marked on approach. “Hands up,” Nile orders, and they stand and raise them, shivering and trying not to look at her. Not a bad choice. They’re wearing a green coverall and from that and the freshly-spilled bucket and spray bottle on the floor next to them, they’re cleaning staff. “I will tie you up or I will shoot you,” Nile says. “I prefer the former.”

“Yes,” they croak and close their eyes, holding out their wrists helpfully. She wouldn’t have aimed to kill, but they don’t know that.

Nile sighs and turns them around without too much force, zipties their hands behind them, then ties a cleaning cloth over their eyes and pats them down for sharps. Finding a boxcutter, she tosses it away and leads them outside. She sits them down in what will be the shadow of their truck and a rock for a good part of the next day and zipties their ankles as well.

There’s another explosion. The cleaner whimpers, tries to stifle it.

“You will be safe if you don’t go any closer to the pipeline,” Nile tells them. They nod wildly, and flinch as she drops a canteen next to them with a clink. “Water. Save it for when you need it.”

She heads back and clears the last of the buildings, Quỳnh and Booker catching her up. Quỳnh’s face is smeared with grime from the explosion and Nile figures she probably doesn’t look much tidier. Booker looks cheerful, for him. 

“Clear?” Quỳnh asks.

“Pulled some data, removed a noncombatant.”

Quỳnh rolls her eyes, but doesn’t object. 

Booker shrugs. “The last of the hired guns ran. I took out the most expensive machinery and have the last charges planted around some pretty sets of sensors and set to blow in five minutes. If you’re both ready, let’s hit the road.”

“Fine,” Quỳnh says. “Nile is buying me ice cream.”

“Oh, am I?”

“For being tedious.”

Nile regards her tiredly. “...sure.”


End file.
